


Grief Is the Color of Clouds

by moodwriter



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-01
Updated: 2012-12-01
Packaged: 2017-11-20 00:40:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/579400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moodwriter/pseuds/moodwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's thirty now. They're about to go on tour. He's never going to find something that lasts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grief Is the Color of Clouds

**Author's Note:**

> This is Valress' prompt (way back when): Hmmm... an H/C with Adam comforting Tommy... Tommy gets hurt by a SO... either they break up or actual physical harm... but Adam swoops in and saves him, helps him see that he isn't his fault, and that he isn't damaged...

Tommy rocks himself back and forth, crouching in an alleyway, hidden from passers-by. It's dark, and the air is moist, like the sky is sweating but not quite crying yet. He doesn't feel anything. He's just waiting. 

When he sees the black car approaching he gets up, sluggish like he's been there for ages even though it's been less than twenty minutes. He manages to open the car door, though, manages to sit down and say hello even though there's nothing but muscle memory working in him right now. But he does recognize the familiar face, and it makes him lean against the back of the car seat, seemingly relaxed. 

"Have you eaten anything?" Adam asks, glancing at him quickly. 

Tommy shakes his head, but it makes him wonder if he actually wants to eat anything. Food seems irrelevant. 

Adam goes to Sonic, and orders them chicken wraps and Lime CreamSlushes. Tommy doesn't object. He doesn't care. They drive somewhere quiet, and eat in the car - or Adam eats and he just nibbles at something, maybe paper, maybe the wrap. He tastes the drink, though, likes the cold buzz inside his brain. 

Once Adam is finished, he starts the car, and they're on the road again. Adam tries to talk, but Tommy lacks words, and it all dies down soon. The silence is good, though. It lets him sink back to the numbness that makes things so much easier. 

"You're scaring me a little," Adam says when they walk to the front door of his house. 

He can't remember if he's even said a word. Adam deserves words. Adam came when he called. He could have said he's too busy. He has a meeting in the morning. He probably has to prepare all kinds of things for it. If Tommy is there he won't be able to work. "I'm okay," he says out of habit. Of course he's okay. This is not any different from all those times he's been kicked out because he's a useless piece of shit who can't hold things together. It doesn't matter that he lived with her for four months, and thought that this one would go somewhere. He's thirty now. They're about to go on tour. He's never going to find something that lasts. 

The thought is so crushing he stumbles, and Adam catches him, concern in his eyes. "You're not okay," Adam says, and pulls him into a hug. He tries to move away, but Adam won't let him. He didn't call because of this. He doesn't want tender loving care. He wanted a roof over his head for the night. It hurts. Adam should see that. But he won't let go. Won't. 

Adam kisses his hair and mumbles, "I'm sorry." 

It's not his fault. Nothing is. 

"Not your fault." He clenches his hands into fists, tense as a fucking arrow. "Let's go inside."

Finally Adam frees him, and he can breathe again. They get as far as the kitchen when Adam hugs him again. He can't take it. He can't tell Adam to stop either because this is his way of comforting people. Adam has lost some of his childish joy of being close to people, but when he's with people he trusts, he's still all over them. Usually Tommy is fine with it, craves it even, but right now, he's so close to cracking it's not good. 

"I just want you to know that you're good enough," Adam says quietly. 

Most days he knows that. Today is not one of those days, and it's not something he wants to face right now. There are too many hurtful words between him and Amy, and he can't let those anywhere near his heart, not now, not when he has no means to defend himself. "I don't want to talk." His tone is terse. He tries to soften it with a touch, but all he manages to do is grab Adam's arm and then hold on like he's never going to survive without that connection. "I can't," he whispers, so weary he can barely stand on his own. His knees give in, but Adam holds his weight. "Sorry."

"It's okay."

Tommy rests his forehead against Adam's shoulder. "I'm sorry for stealing your time." 

"What?" Adam holds his arms and pushes him back, staring into his eyes. "What? No. What?"

That steals a smile from him even though he feels like shit. He bites his lip, then says, "You mean you don't mind me calling this late, needy and lacking all normal social skills?" His voice breaks at the last words because he just doesn't feel it. He's so tired. "Just... put me to bed."

The look on Adam's face turns from shocked to sweet in a heartbeat, and Tommy gets exactly two seconds to realize what the actual fuck Adam is doing. Then he's up in his arms, squeaking like a girl, wrapping his arms around Adam's neck quickly. "Fuck, you scared me," he barks out, his voice full of feeling, full of life. 

Adam laughs. "You said, _put_ me to bed. I intend to do that." He starts carrying Tommy out of the kitchen and to the stairs that lead to his bedrooms. Tommy gives in, and just lets Adam do what he wants. Everything is easier that way. 

Adam holds him close like he's something precious, and for a moment, time seems to stop, the trip taking longer than it should. He presses his face against Adam's neck, grateful beyond words. This is why he always calls Adam when things turn shitty. It's not because Adam can solve his problems. It's because Adam makes him care less about them, makes him see what matters. He cherishes moments like these because clarity isn't something that comes naturally to him. 

Instead of taking him to one of the guestrooms, Adam kicks open the door to his own bedroom. Tommy has slept there twice before. 

Adam is so careful when he puts Tommy down. "I'll get you something more comfortable," Adam says, waving his hand in a way that seems to say his leather pants and button down shirt aren't good enough for sleeping. 

Tommy takes off his shoes while Adam goes to look for pajama pants and a t-shirt. Adam never wears anything to bed, except when he sleeps with Tommy. 

When they lie there on their sides, staring at each other, Tommy finally feels like himself. He's there completely, not hiding behind a wall of indifference. His hands are under his pillow, and they are mirror images of each other with Adam, knees touching. 

"Thank you." He's whispering because it's dark, and they're supposed to go to sleep. 

He can easily see Adam's smile. "I like you."

He knows what Adam means by those words. It's an explanation for everything. "I know."

"I'd probably paint the sky green for you." Adam's smile grows wider. "I'd try."

Tommy smiles back. "What else?"

"Keep that."

Tommy bites his lip. "What?"

"That smile. It suits you. Keep it."

Oh... He blinks, wipes his face to the pillow, and then looks at Adam. "What else would you do for me?" he asks again, keeping the smile.

"I'd move mountains. I'd buy Paris." Adam ponders about it a little. "I'd become a vampire and live forever, just so we could get to know each other properly. I'd reincarnate for you."

Tommy fake-sighs, batting his eyelashes. "You're so good to me." 

"I am. You should thank me for it." Adam sounds hilarious, changing his voice so he sounds like he escaped from a bad porn movie. 

Tommy laughs, his whole body shaking. He loves this about them: their weirdest conversations, their nonsense-talk, their friendship. This. "I've missed you," he says, too serious all of a sudden, and Adam tries to hide the guilty look. Tommy sees it anyway. 

"I've been busy. I know it's not an excuse, but it's true." Adam slides his hand under Tommy's pillow, and touches his hand, filling Tommy with warmth. 

"I know." He shifts a little so he can lace their fingers. "I know, okay? It doesn't matter how often we see each other. I always feel like it was yesterday anyway."

Adam squeezes Tommy's hand. "How long has it been?"

"Last practice? Three weeks ago?"

"I suck."

"You didn't know. I never tell." Tommy pulls their hands from under his pillow, and kisses Adam's knuckles. "It was shitty even then. Don't get me wrong... I don't blame her. She couldn't handle the pressure of the tour coming and the fans and me being gloomy. And she kept pushing. She couldn't just let me be for a while. I don't understand why people need attention all the time. I want to be left alone, and they never understand. Never. It's not that I don't care. It's not that I don't love her. I just can't be there every second of every day. I need to recharge myself. I need to be quiet and far away sometimes. I just don't understand how it's so fucking hard to understand that. I don't need much. That. And I never ever fucking ever-ever get that. Ever." 

Adam pulls him into his arms and Tommy lets him. He's not close to tears now, not close to cracking, and it's so much easier. He can deal. "For once, I would like to meet someone who actually means it when they say that they understand. It's so fucking frustrating. I don't want to feel guilty in my own home. I don't want to feel like I'm the shittiest shithead in the whole fucking world if I don't want to go somewhere or do something. I want them to do whatever the fuck they want, but god, just let me be." He growls because he's so fucking frustrated. He hates it. For four months he's tried to fit into that incredibly small box, and he just can't. He can't be anything to anyone ever. He would like to find someone who doesn't want him to be anything, who would be satisfied with just him, just Tommy, just the guy who likes to stay quiet for hours if he feels like it. 

"I like you the way you are," Adam says quietly. "I know I'm not there always, and I suck at so many things, but I like you. I wouldn't change anything about you."

Even though he knows it, it's good to hear it. He needs those words now, and Adam always knows what he needs - even if he hugs Tommy when he's close to losing it. 

To his horror he sniffles. He didn't even notice that he had started crying, and it makes him so uncomfortable he tries to get away. Adam holds him close, strong arms tight around him, and he even traps Tommy's legs with his own. "Don't go anywhere. I don't care. We don't need to talk. You can just be."

"Don't be so fucking sweet," he says, voice mostly gone. "I hate this."

Adam kisses his ear, and pulls him even closer. "I'll take care of you if you break. I'll put you back together. Don't worry."

His fingers curl around Adam's shirt. Fuck this. Fuck everything. "Don't share this with anyone." He doesn't know what he's asking from Adam. He just knows that what they have is theirs alone. He doesn't want anyone else knowing anything about how they are together. He doesn't want anyone stealing the magic away. 

"I'll tell Glara," Adam says next to his ear. Glara is Adam's glittery microphone. "I tell her everything."

Tommy laughs through the stupid tears, and clings to Adam, his arms between them, his face in full contact of Adam's skin. "Tell her to send me her love."

"Oh, she loves you. She's always thinking of you."

"Really?" 

"Always. She's the one who drags me close to you on stage all the time. She misses you constantly. You should hear her wail."

He loves Adam more than anything in the entire world. More than anything. "I'm so grateful I met you."

Adam's lips brush his ear. "She's not the only one who loves you."

It's so easy. He only has to tilt his head back, and he's kissing Adam. It's such a quiet touch, but it changes when Adam moves, pushing Tommy on his back and spreading him on the bed. He's never been able to say no to Adam. He's never wanted to say no to him. 

Adam's body rests partly on top of his, and he can feel every hard line of him clearly: bones, muscles, warm skin, all making him feel a little dizzy. His arms are still between them, and all he can do with his hands is hold on. He can lift his left knee, though, and he does, spreading it wide open. Adam's hand presses the knee further down, and he moans against Adam's mouth. 

Adam slides his knee between Tommy's thighs, so close he can feel the warmth but not the touch. He tries to move, but Adam holds him still. He wants, his whole body shaking a little. 

The kiss is so soft now it's almost distracting, like Adam wants him to concentrate there when he's concentrating on feeling fucking amazing. He lets Adam pull his attention there, though, lets him bite his lips gently, and then rock against his body in a way that sets him on fire. If Adam is trying to make him think about this he's not doing a very good job. 

"I want to," Adam whispers against his mouth. "I want you."

His breaths are so shallow, but he tries not to pant, tries to breathe as quietly as possible. That only makes him feel more. "Please," he says, lifting his hips just enough and Adam groans. It feels so good against his chin. "Please."

"God, I can't..." Adam moves between Tommy's thighs, rubbing against him, his movements soft and controlled and so arousing Tommy moves with him, pushing against him, spreads his legs even wider and wraps them around Adam. He hasn't done this since he was a teenager, and he's never done it with a guy. 

Adam kisses him again, breathing hard, but still trying to lick him, nip at his lips, kiss him as much as he can. Tommy arches his neck back, mouth open, hair on his face. He's so close to coming it's not even possible. Yet, it is. Adam is right there with him, so warm against him he's never felt anything like it, and then there's wetness between them, and he watches Adam's mouth when he comes, that sensual line of his upper lip, and how he can't seem to breathe at all for a second. He looks pained and beautiful, and it's just too much. He pulls his hands free, and wraps them around Adam, holding on to him so hard it has to be painful. 

Adam is hot, sweaty, comfortable weight on top him, and for a second there he wants to cry again. The feeling passes, though, and he breathes under Adam, eyes closed and body trembling. 

He has no idea what's going on between them now. This has never happened before. They've kissed. They've slept in the same bed. They've always been very affectionate. But nothing has ever gone this far. 

It scares him a little. 

"You okay?" Adam whispers in his ear. 

"I..." He doesn't know what to say or how to deal. His brain hasn't yet caught up with his body. "I have no idea." He sounds mesmerized, and it's pretty much how he feels. 

Adam rests his weight on his elbows, and looks at Tommy. Their eyes meet. "I should be sorry, shouldn't I?" He sounds so genuine. 

He could say so many things right now, but the simple truth sounds the best. "I'm not."

The way Adam smiles makes him look young and sweet and so innocent nobody could believe that this is the same person who eye-fucks thousands of people. The smile tugs at Tommy's heartstrings, makes his heart bleed a little. 

Adam's voice is soft when he speaks, his eyes following Tommy's every expression. "You know... I wouldn't mind if you never came with me anywhere." The fear in Adam's eyes is palpable. 

Tommy stares at him, wonders just how much of himself Adam put in those words, and then chooses to believe that Adam is offering him everything. "I'd never feel like you don't have enough time for me." He can't even breathe now. Is he really going to do this? Are they? 

"I have a huge TV," Adam says, and surprises Tommy completely. "You could hibernate in front of it, and I wouldn't care." 

Tommy stops thinking. This is not something he wants to think through. He wants to feel, and nothing has ever felt this right. "You mean it?"

"I understand it," Adam simply says, and kisses him. 

 

The End


End file.
